Trust
by SugarLandBabyGirl
Summary: His eyes were piercing, searching for just a flicker of the trust she'd once had in him to still be there reflected back at him in her watery gaze. But it wasn't there and he feared that it likely never would be again. Not after this.


****Disclaimer: Characters and other recognizable things in this story belong to their respective copyright holders. The only things that I own are the original characters and plot of this story. I am making no money from writing this fan work. No copyright infringement is intended.****

**A/N: **First off, I've no idea where the hell this came from! I need to be writing fic's for KnB or SnK not KHR, but this idea absolutely would not leave me alone! XD Love it or hate it dear readers, it had to be written. -_-

**Pairing:** [KHR! - TYL! Yamamoto Takeshi x Unidentified]

* * *

**Trust**

| | _**KHR! – TYL! Yamamoto Takeshi**_ | |

His eyes were piercing, searching for just a flicker of the trust she'd once had in him to still be there reflected back at him in her watery gaze. But it wasn't there and he feared that it likely never would be again. Not after this.

_Trust me, please. Trust in me like you did once before. _His gaze seemed to beg though his features remained unnervingly passive.

"Why the hell should I trust you?" She snapped, her voice clearly revealing her anger and hurt at his betrayal, his lies. "You _lied_ to me, this whole time, you _lied_."

"I did lie," He acknowledged morosely, "but I did it to protect you."

She choked out a dry, humorless laugh that made him flinch. "It didn't work."

He didn't know how to respond to the truth of her statement. Despite, or rather in spite of all the precautions he took to keep her safe it was all in vain. They'd found out about her, his secret paramour and they had targeted her because of him, because of who he was - because he was Yamamoto Takeshi, Rain Guardian of Vongola Tenth.

Thankfully he had managed to get there in time to stop them from doing much harm, but she was still shaken from the assault and she was bleeding from several small wounds. But what was worse, she had _seen_ him. She'd witnessed first-hand the darker part of his life, of himself that he never wanted her to see. She had seen him kill her attackers, without remorse.

What was he supposed to say?

That he was sorry? Well, he was. He was so very, very sorry.

Was he supposed to say that he never meant for this to happen, that he never meant for her to get caught up in the mess that was his life and get hurt? Of course he hadn't, he didn't, but that wasn't good enough. It would never be enough.

There was nothing he could say or do to make this better.

_They_ knew about her now and no matter how much she might want to escape this fate, escape him she couldn't. Not if she wanted to live. They would hunt her down and kill her within a week and now that she knew the truth about him, he couldn't just let her runaway. Normal, civilian life was lost completely to her now.

They were at an impasse and he had two options. He could take her with him and permanently bring her into his world for her own protection or... he would have to kill her himself to keep his friends and himself safe. There could be no loose ends.

Apathetically he told her as such. He was surprised by the defeated yet knowing look in her eyes and posture. She had known, even before he spoke that her options were limited and death was one of them. Silently he begged her not to choose death by his hand. He loved her so much. Killing her would be like turning his katana on himself, only he would continue living with the knowledge and pain.

She had a choice to make and she needed to make it now.

She could either come with him and place her broken trust him once more, or die by his hand here and now. He wasn't unaware that those options were completely contradictory to each other, but that was his life.

A tense, pregnant silence enveloped the bloodstained vacation home. This hadn't exactly been his cleanest kill he realized as his gaze raked over the carnage - it was without a doubt his sloppiest kill since he first became a hit man. It was almost shameful. The kills lacked his usual refinement because he had lost his composure at the thought of her being hurt by them or dying. His only thought had been to protect her from harm.

Finally she met his gaze, ready to give her answer. She was so very clearly afraid, yet resigned. He feared that her choice would be the one that killed him too. _Choose me. Choose us._ His gaze and heart pleaded silently as his apathetic mask began to crack under the pressure and expected heartbreak.

Slowly she rose from the couch and after a short pause in which he was sure his heart stopped beating her shaky hand reached out for his. He didn't hesitate to envelope her small hand in his own and pull her into a rib crushing embrace. She flinched at his touch, but didn't pull away. She chose _them_. Unbidden tears of happiness slid down his face as he quickly ushered them out of the house and into a waiting car away from all the carnage.


End file.
